


New Tradition

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst with a fluffy ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Day Eve, becoming friends, pre-fenders - Freeform, talk of death, talk of slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first year in Kirkwall for the group as a group. Fenris is dealing with the idea of being free. Anders is mourning the loss of Karl. Both men find common ground on the last night of the year and set the foundation for a friendship and, perhaps, more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to enough holiday music and I end up writing angsty with a side of fluff? I suppose! Why First Night? Because it's convenient to our New Years and is religious-neutral so we all can enjoy it!

Darktown was quieter than normal, not that it was ever fully quiet. Not truly. Whispers, grunts of pain, soft praying, coughing...the sobs of a child, it all blended with the constant drips of water from cracks in the ceiling, the chitter of rats, and the hiss of fire. Usually, there were also sounds of bartering, fights, bickering - the dull sound of skin hitting skin, the thud of a crossbow bolt, the snick of a knife being pulled.

Tonight though, a lot of the tent settlements sat quiet. Small candles burned as tidbits of the Chant rode the air. It was a poor reflection of the wider celebrations going on in Lowtown and Hightown - candles burning brightly in windows, fires in the squares, people sharing drink and food while celebrating the last night of the year. Celebrations that didn’t touch him.

He had no concept of holidays.

Fenris moved through the quiet of Darktown,on a mission from Hawke to find out why their resident healer and abomination had not shown at the Hanged Man. Everybody else had. It was a bawdy gathering consisting of bad ale, card games, and wild stories. The first of many, Hawke had said in toast.

To his new family. To the people who would see him succeed. Who would succeed with him.

Fenris had watched as Isabela hung from Hawke’s muscled arm. As that Dalish twit, Merrill, made doe eyes at everybody. He had watched and sipped at his wine and tried to feel...something...other than displacement. The only person missing was Anders and Fenris was trying to not think about how much he rather missed the mage’s sly humor.

It was inevitable that he would be asked to track down the mage. Hawke was drunk. Aveline could not just wander into Darktown - not as the new Guard Captain. And Isabela, Merrill, and Varric would have to go as a group. Nobody else was as well trained, as dangerous, as Fenris.

It didn’t surprise him that the lantern was out or the doors closed. What did surprise him was the dim light coming from underneath the doors and the sobs he could hear through the wood. Rough, wet, harsh sobs that spoke of more pain than any one being should handle.

It made anxiety coil in Fenris’ stomach.

Still, he reached out and wrapped one hand around a handle and pulled, the door opening easily. No locks - not in Darktown. Not that the mage had anything worth stealing. The door was silent...strange in a part of the city known for its damp and rot and rust.

Fenris stepped in, stealthy on barefeet. The clinic was empty but for the mage who knelt in front of a small candle, head bowed, shoulders shaking. Another sob caught the air, a desperate noise that tugged at something in Fenris’ chest.

He closed the door quietly and advanced, not sure what was happening. Not sure if he wanted to know or could help. Still, he moved till he was standing next to Anders and could gracefully lower himself to his knees.

“Anders…” His gravelly voice was as gentle as he could pitch it.

“Fenris?” The one word was wetly exhaled. “What?”

“Hawke sent me to find you. You are missing the celebration. You are...crying?” Fenris curled his fingers, telling himself touching wasn’t allowed. Not with a mage.

“It’s the first First Day Eve since…” Anders gestured at the candle. “Since Karl…”

“Your lover…” Fenris wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. He had been there to see what had happened. There was no need to bring up the past.

“I feel so alone. Even with Justice. I wanted to save him,” Anders said desperately, turning and reaching out for Fenris. “And instead I killed him.”

Fenris chewed on the inside of his cheek, gaze firmly down on the floor. He wasn’t sure how to respond, how to handle grief in any form. Anders’ hands fell when it was apparent that Fenris wouldn’t touch him and he turned back to the candle. Another soft sob, muffled, filled the room and made Fenris glance up to see Anders’ shoulders shaking.

“I never celebrated holidays. Slaves do not...we do not have holidays,” Fenris said slowly. “We work, we are dressed in fine clothes and paraded like pets.”

“I’m sorry,” Anders whispered.

“I have no kind words for you. Your Karl...was…” Fenris hesitated.

“Tranquil.” Anders finished. “He was tranquil and it was my fault. Mine. They did it to get to me. To hurt me.” Anders’ hands clenched into fists. “He had passed his Harrowing. He was a good mage, a good man…”

Fenris hung his head, chewing over words. “I have no love of mages or magic. How can I, with Danarius still looking to leash me? But what was done to Karl. It was wrong.”

Anders blew out a breath. “Thank you. I’m sorry you walked all this way for nothing. I really don’t want to be in the Hanged Man right now.”

“Neither do I.” Fenris settled on the floor, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I could stay?”

“Don’t you want to celebrate with Hawke?” Anders glanced at him. “I’ve seen you watching him.”

“I watch everyone,” Fenris said, lips twitching. “I watch him watching that pirate. I watch you watching him.”

“You watch me?” Anders scooted back and turned, mirroring Fenris. “Why?”

“You are a possessed mage and I...I…” Fenris hesitated again.

“Yes yes...abomination...I’ve heard your ranting.” Anders frowned, fingers clutching his legs tighter.

“You scare me.” Fenris rested his cheek on his knee. “You are a mage. You are possessed. You are everything I should fear. Everything I have learned to fear. And yet…”

Anders wiggled a little, getting more comfortable. “And yet what?”

“You are funny. And you listen when I do not wish for your magic. It is confusing.”

“I’m not going to force my icky magic on you, Fenris. I know you’re scared. I can respect that. It’s the way you spew such hatred and anger at me. That’s what’s hard to handle.” Anders rocked back and forth. “It hurts to know that I’m seen as just a dirty magic user. It’s been the same my whole life.”

Fenris exhaled hard through his nose, obviously reigning in a knee-jerk response. “My anger is not a constant. I...push it on you frequently. To see what you will do…”

“You like watching me mad?” Anders gawked.

“I keep waiting for you to lash out. To hurt me. To prove that you are like him. And every time you simply yell and then walk off. You never...even if we have argued, you still try to help me.” Fenris squeezed his legs tighter.

“So why are you really down here, Fenris?” Anders asked, words quiet and hesitant. “Because Hawke forced you?”

“Does it matter why? I wish to...may I stay?” Fenris lifted his head to meet Anders’ eyes.

“You want to stay here with me?”

“I have never celebrated First Day before and you are lonely…” Fenris inhaled. “I would sit vigil with you if you would like company.”

“Perhaps we can make a new tradition out of it?” Anders looked hopeful. “No matter how bad the year, we sit together for the beginning of the new one?”

“It would be nice to have something like that. It is what free men do, yes?” Fenris gave a small smile. “It would be better than sitting in the Hanged Man.”

“With the bad ale and loud drunks.” Anders nodded. “I can’t get drunk….Justice doesn’t approve of the loss of control.”

“Can you have a glass of wine?” Fenris asked.

“One. Maybe two. Why?”

“We could go to...to the mansion. There is wine. I have a little food...a fire…”

“You wouldn’t mind if I spent the night?”

“No mage.” Fenris stood and offered Anders his hand. “This does not mean...I do not…”

“No discussion of mage rights tonight, got it.” Anders gave a smile and allowed Fenris to help him up. “I can tell you stories from my time as a warden.”

“I will...accept that.” Fenris shifted on his feet. “Come Anders, before the night gets any later.”

***

The sun rose slowly on First Day. Frost coated the trees and grass and fogged the windows. Anders and Fenris leaned back against the bed and watched as the sky slowly brightened. On the floor sat several empty bottles of wine and a book of stories Anders had found in one room. Fenris stretched slowly and turned to look at Anders.

“Happy First Day,” He murmured, a yawn interrupting his words.

“Mm, Happy First Day. Mind if I nap before I leave?” Anders asked, head nodding slowly forward.

“I shall sleep as well.” Fenris slowly stood and crawled onto the bed - his armor having been removed hours before. Anders followed, grumbling when he realized he was still in his boots. “Thank you for the stories.”

“Thank you for the wine.” Anders finally got his boots off and fell back on the bed.

“Anders?” Fenris asked, picking his head up to look over at the mage. Anders’ grunt made him smile a tiny bit. “Nevermind.”

“Mm...sleep well…” Anders muttered, curling up in a ball under the blankets.

They were both curled under the blankets with Hawke found them later. He just smiled, held a finger to his lips, and backed out of the room. Varric glanced up and grinned, following Hawke back down the stairs and then out of the mansion. Anders heard the door shut, mumbled, and rolled closer to Fenris - who simply yawned and burrowed further under the blankets.

Looking back, Anders would say that was the moment it all started. Their friendship, their love...based on one night at the end of the year when differences were put aside and a new tradition was born.


End file.
